


An Amenity

by goldengan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consent is key, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Hank1700, M/M, Multi, Non-Binary Upgraded Connor | RK900, Other, Reed is mentioned a couple times but that's it and it's because he's very stupid, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Hank Anderson, Trans character written by trans author, trans character written by trans man author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 20:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20263996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengan/pseuds/goldengan
Summary: Hank and Connor could never have imagined anything like this happening on their anniversary. Not by a longshot. 900 changed their lives the moment they stepped foot into their hotel bedroom. But, it’s safe to say, that no party would come to regret this. Not one bit.HankCon go to a fancy resort for their anniversary and meet a gorgeous android who lives to serve hotel guests. To the shock and awe of all involved, things work out for the best. Make sure to read best as "horniest."~Hank1700 shenanigans~





	An Amenity

**Author's Note:**

> Hank and Connor are trans men, Nines uses they/them pronouns and has, what they call, a penile component. Terms used: cock, dick, sex, lips, pussy, hole, entrance.
> 
> If this isn't your cup of tea, please take care. AKA: Don't like, don't read
> 
> ~
> 
> Happy Birthday Connor Detroit!

The android recharging stands are for show. 

It’s common knowledge that androids have batteries that last up to or over one hundred years. When people see an android charging stand at the end of hallways and in their suites, they assume these are for a different sort of android. Special androids that are made specifically for the hotel. That they must have shorter battery lives to save on costs! Or… something! Moreover, most don’t think on it at all. The androids and their recharging stations become swirls in the textured paint until the patron needs them.

Watson Luxury Hotels would say, and argue in a court of law, that they are “up front” with what the androids were really for. “Up front” meaning the androids function is in fine print on the same screen that requires the patron’s signature at payment. Entirely legal because that’s just how the world is in 2038.

To be plain: Watson Hotels androids are used for surveillance and the “charging stations” upload the footage to the hotel. The models used were not “special” but instead bought “wholesale” from “CyberLife” “directly.”

Put even plainer: the whole hotel chain used RK900 model androids because the US government didn’t want them. Anymore. Or now. Maybe they would be picked up at a later date? Who reads fine print anymore?

Watson prided themselves on their androids being the “ultimate amenity.” People whisper – people who are most likely perverts – and wonder at what exactly that entails. Both Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Professor Connor Roderick knew such a person, sadly.

When Connor walks into the DPD’s bullpen on Thursday evening to pick up his husband of two years, said person pretends to whisper, “You guys staying at Watson?” Only to use his usual volume, which is near permanently set at “loudest,” to say, “Ain’t that the place where they let you fuck the androids?”

“For gods sake, Reed. You itching for _another_ page in your disciplinary folder?”

“You’d really do that before your,” the Detective puts on an affected, cutesy voice, to say, “anniversary.” Heard as “annivewsawy” because who needs dignity?

Hank opens his mouth – no doubt to retort that Reed is a “piece of shit idiot” – as Connor places a hand on his husbands’ arm. His big beautiful brown eyes whisking Hank away from Reed’s awful, greasy face. “Ready to leave?”

Jeez, how’s Hank alive when his heart _flutters_ every time the pair lock eyes?

He’s known Connor since, fuck, 2030? Back when Connor started his transition and joined the same support group Hank was in. The kid was downright swimming in his too big clothes, certainly hoping to hide his body, and lamented how he started “too late in life.” That garnered some good-natured laughs and Connor was a blushing mess, completely missing the joke.

“I started when I was 26. You got time.” In that moment, seconds after his first words to Connor, all Hank wanted was to see Connor happy. “Don’t worry about it.” Hank smiled, those doe eyes met his own and completely changed his world.

Connor returned the smile and… well. Hank’s heart fluttered the same way it did just now. Hank often jokes that he’s an “old man” and this will be the “death” of him. 

Connor knows what Hank’s thinking, often before he does, so he jibes, “Let us get you rested, old man.” Punctuating with a sly wink, only for Hank.

They grab their suitcases to begin their journey towards their anniversary destination. A beautiful beach getaway in the Florida Keys. A chance to get away from all the android related crimes Hank had to deal with and for Connor to relax before the semester began. A chance for them to have some fun, maybe get a tan, maybe get a few “couples” massages, maybe fuck on every surface of their hotel room, maybe get a few fancy drinks, maybe try out that new strap-on Hank bought for the occasion. Who knows!

Neither of them had ever been to a such a fancy… anywhere before. The pair are completely and totally out of their element. Neither are used to the normal trappings of “high society.” Or what passed for “high society” to the mostly non-existent middle class who scrimped and saved for a nice vacation.  
“Remember our room in Minneapolis?” The only place they could afford at the time of their honeymoon that was also “away.” “Had a similar color scheme, I think.” Swirling green patterned carpet with dark beige walls. Only this place sports inlets along the hallway that are adorned with lamps or other meaningless, but fancy, trinkets.

Connor fishes for the card key, giving Hank incredulous eyes as the android that’s helping with their bags – who is incredibly attractive, both men note, neither had ever seen such an android before! – opens the door without one. No movement or so much as an android blink. Simply standing in the entryway for the door to open wide. Connor slides the currently unneeded key back into his pocket and says, “First of all, this place is clean.”

“And thank god for that.”

“And, second, that was a motel. Not a hotel.”

“You know that I’m never gonna remember the difference, right?” Hank’s reaching for his wallet but then realizes that the android is gone and, also, it’s an android. You don’t tip androids.

“Were you going to tip the android?”

“I forgot it was an android.”

Connor snorts, “Wow,” walks to close the door behind the exiting android but, of course, it closes on its own, “you really need this vacation.”

Hank sidles up behind Connor, excited to finally have his way-too-attractive-for-the-likes-of-Hank husband all to himself. All alone in their large, honeymoon style suite. Hank’s arms are wrapped around Connor’s middle, chest flush with Connor’s back, as he places whiskery kisses along Connor’s neck.

Connor’s shoulders sag in a sigh as he attempts to maneuver so he can grab Hank’s butt. Hank, as he always does, wiggles so Connor can’t get a good grip on him. “I figured you’d try something,” Connor’s voice as mischievous as those hips are trying to be, obviously angling to press his ass to Hank’s crotch, “instead of the usual horsing around.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Hank lifts Connor, bridal style, “I can’t do both?” Then throws Connor over his shoulder with an ease which leaves Connor not only breathless but, oh fuck, so very aroused. One arm anchoring Connor’s legs to his body while the opposite hand spanks on Connor’s cute ass.

Connor pretends to be indignant, playfully beating his fists on Hank’s back, shouting through giggles to be “put down” as Hank walks them to the bedroom. They’re entirely in their own world as they plop themselves on the bed. Connor notices softness of the mattress, yes, but is more interested in Hank’s thigh between his legs and lips on his neck. Hank is persistence incarnate, knowing full well what makes his husband squirm and shout.

The door leading into the bedroom is wide open, therefore enterable given the circumstances, HUD flashing a possible domestic abuse issue in their assigned suite. It wouldn’t be anywhere near the first they’ve seen. But those movements? Soft and slow against each other, the slighter man’s eyes closing as his mouth opens and gasps as the other, larger, man drags his teeth along his partners neck. 

From this evidence, RK900 surmises that this is not a violent situation. However, this doesn’t mean they’re done with their duty, HUD now informing to explain to these patrons the functions they have available.

They open their mouth to speak but are interrupted by the slighter one’s shriek as the larger one rips his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. “Hank! You’re –” Whatever the man was going to say stops on his lips as the large man licks at an exposed nipple and pinches its twin. 

They had never been rendered speechless by a sight before. Usually they knew how to ignore humans and their various eccentricities. And, yes, they had walked in on patrons engaging in intercourse in the past. All in order to complete their mission.

RK900 couldn’t help but wonder as they watched: was it really so pleasurable to have someone kiss on your chest? To the point of words failing?

They desperately wanted to know.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^^^**

Hank’s head moves of its own accord and, at first, he isn’t sure what he’s looking at. Is it the same android as before? Their outfit isn’t the same at all. Now it’s wearing a plain, simple white shirt with tan shorts instead of their previous bellhop outfit. But something told Hank this wasn’t the same android. Maybe it was the look it was giving him and Connor. Maybe it was the fact that his hair was different, a bit more mussed but calculatedly so.

Once blood flowed to Hank’s brain, he gives the proper response. He jolts back, letting out an undignified noise as Connor sits up, “Why did you st—?” Then Connor follows Hank’s eyeline and startles as well, attempting to cover his chest with… where the fuck is his shirt?

Hank’s standing up now and, for some unknown reason, says, “Hello?”

Connor makes a face at his husband, confused and annoyed. When Hank doesn’t offer any more help besides a confused greeting, Connor says, “What’s going on?” Perhaps stupidly. And, yeah, maybe not much better than Hank in the words department.

It is plain to see that an android, complete with a cycling yellow LED, is standing in the doorway and staring. The “why” of the situation hasn’t been figured out by either Hank or Connor. Embarrassment is still highest on their list of reactions, so they aren’t giving this situation their full brain power.

Humans really are strange.

“Hello.” The android smiles at the pair with a slight tilt of their head, “I’m the android assigned to your suite.” They right their head, looking between the two men. Movements too precise to be human. Uncanny given their exceedingly attractive appearance. “My name can be registered to suit your needs. Until then, if it suits you, you can refer to me as “900”.”

Hank keeps attempting at a coherent thought, beginning a word then ending it abruptly. Connor stares. Anger doesn’t feel viable now. Now he’s just confused. He asks, “Why did you interrupt us?” Completely inquisitive. No divisiveness to detect.

“I apologize,” 900 bows their head slightly, “my systems informed me of a domestic dispute.” Their pale grey eyes meet Connor’s, “Incorrect as it may be, I must offer you my services.”

“What services?” Now Hank can speak because, no… There’s no way Reed was right. He has to make sure one way or the other. Hopefully they just want to talk about premium porno channels or something.

Those pale eyes meet Hank’s now, their face unchanged, “Besides the standard, further services include escort and sexual.”

“Jesus Christ.” Connor whispers, arms falling to his sides, body bouncing on the bed at his movement.

“This is a joke.” Hank says, trying to laugh at this situation but ultimately failing. “Someone made you do this, right?”

“I am programmed and fully functional as per Watson Luxury Hotels specifications.” The android folds their arms behind their back before saying, “If you are not pleased with my appearance, I am able to change my facial structure and skin type. If you are desiring a female model, however, I’ll need to put in a request.”

“How in the goddamn is this such a secret if ‘droids just walk in and say “wanna fuck?””

“I can begin “dirty talk” software, if it is preferable to you.”

Hank… makes a sound that’s not unlike a dying seal. His hand grabs for the edge of the bed, not looking away from 900 until Hank eventually settles into the plush mattress, his sitting jostling Connor.

Connor, who is now sitting criss-cross-applesauce and also not looking away from 900, doesn’t react to Hank’s movement. His eyes are narrowed in thought, teeth worrying his lower lip. Trying to figure this situation out. 

Yes, Hank and Connor had spoken about the possibility of having a threesome but the opportunity never presented itself. Connor never thought about having sex with an android, though. In the past he figured it wasn’t much different from a vibrator or a sex doll but now… face to face with one that’s explaining their sexual capabilities… 

“Can I ask you some questions?”

Hank makes another dying animal sound, finally turning Connor away from 900. “Connor, are you serious?” He doesn’t sound angry either, simply confused. More than a bit delirious. Maybe he hit his head? Maybe he’s dreaming, his body still snoring in their airplane here? But, if he wasn’t dreaming, maybe Hank wanted some answers as well.

Connor shrugs, “Might as well ask, right?”

“You can request anything you wish of me.” 900 gives a slight smile. It’s fake and obviously required. “Think of me as an amenity.”

Hank and Connor turn to each other, each knowing that they have the same thoughts on the matter. Both are horrified. It feels… wrong. Disgusting.

People are… okay?... with this?...

In a way, a sick and twisted way, it makes sense. 900 is a gorgeous model.

Hank finds many of 900’s facial features similar to Connor’s, while Connor notices how thick and muscular 900’s body is. Their clothing clinging tight against the contours of their musculature. Both men are attracted to them, sure. And, yes, the pair are now sharing a singular brain cell, blood rushing in all the wrong places if they wanted to form a logical thought. Connor, somehow, has the capability to form words – even though Hank definitely doesn’t – as he has questions about all this, damn it.

Hank nods to Connor, letting him take the lead. This isn’t anything close to Hank’s wheelhouse, so he’s entirely out of his element. And, after all, a doctor of psychiatry would know how to broach this topic delicately, Hank figured.

“Are you interested in fucking us or is that your programming?”

Or not.

The android’s brow furrows. With their pointed and sharp angled features, the effect is frightening. “It is…” Their hands release from behind their back, now interlacing in the front of their groin. Hank sees it as nervousness but it’s so hard to tell. Connor reads that they’re uncomfortable. “It is required by my programming to offer my services.”

“Did they program you to feel?” Hank asks, hesitance framing his words. “Like… could you feel it if we _were_ to do anything with you?”

Connor nods, showing solidarity. “Do you feel pleasure?”

The pair watch as 900’s eyelids flutter, their eyes darting between the two of them. “I…”

900 has never been asked a question like this. Humans didn’t care about such things. Chasing pleasure and not worrying about what the android felt, treating them like a piece of equipment at best.

Maybe, 900 thought, only the humans that used their services in the past are like that. Maybe these two aren’t bad people. 

So, 900 looks them up.

**| Lt. Anderson, Hank**  
**| Born: 09/06/1985 // Police Lieutenant **  
**| Criminal Record: None**

**| Roderick, Connor**  
**| Psychiatry Professor at University of Colbridge**  
**| Born: 03/17/2006 **  
**| Criminal Record: None**

Even digging deeper into the pairs past, previous jobs and name changes and surgeries, didn’t add anything to what 900 felt inside, that these two are good people. 900 is sure of it. 

A red wall forms in 900’s mind palace. It crumbles, bits and pieces falling away as they stare at the two men in front of them. Until it collapses down the middle. The rest falls away easily.

900 has never met or known a deviant before, but they know instantly that they are one. 

The feelings that led 900 to this point are pure now, unfettered by their previous android tasks. They touch their cheek, it’s warm. Embarrassment? They’re embarrassed? Ashamed? No. They’re afraid by how much they want these two men to take them – rip off their clothing and do what the pair wanted.

Hank has seen androids blush before. Those who are not deviant can have the capability to integrate better into human situations. Those who are deviated? They blush blue. 

The android in front of them, 900, is blushing a brillant blue and Connor cannot help but think how beautiful they are. Their pale skin and light eyes are amplified by the blue on their cheeks and neck. Connor turns to view Hank, speaking without words, then the pair know exactly what to do.

Connor turns back to 900 and asks again, “Do you feel pleasure?”

900 looks off to the side, eyes not meeting the pair. “I think so.”

“Would you like to join us?” Hank asks. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, though. Don’t wanna force you into anything.”

900’s throat bobbed as they swallowed. “I would like that, Lieutenant.”

Hank chuckles, “Just call me Hank, okay?”

900 turns to Professor Roderick and asks, “What shall I call you?”

Connor grins, ecstatic at this turn of events, “Call me Connor.”

900 steps past the threshold, just one step, looking between the two like their feet could set off a bomb.

“Hey, uh, if you don’t wanna…”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Connor finishes Hank’s sentence.

Both men worry that they are being too eager, too disgusting, that 900 is just being polite or that they’re afraid.

900 is worried. They don’t want to seem too over-eager, but at the same time, “I really want this.”

Their “really” is heavy emphasized.

The pair smile at 900, then at each other, “Well you can cross this off your bucket list.” Hank’s framing it as a joke but, right now, Connor’s isn’t thinking about lists.

Connor pats the bed, the space between him and his husband, “Come here and relax. Me and Hank will take care of you.”

“Oh,” 900 says as they stop, knee on the edge of the bed. “My job is to… I’m supposed to—”

“Have you ever had sex, honey?” Hank asks, words dipped low.

“I…” They have, but it was before deviancy when they felt no tactile responses. Now they can feel the bed underneath them, the fine and silky cloth underneath their fingertips, so, “No. Not yet.”

Hank nods in understanding, because he does understand – he watched an android become deviant from getting too horny. 

Connor sure did make trips interesting, that’s for sure.

“Me and Connor know what we’re doing. You can trust us, babe.”

900 bites their lip at the pet name. Something… something 900 can’t identify floods their body. It’s warm and pleasant, settles low their stomach, thirium flowing fast to fill their genital component. It’s… Nothing has ever felt like this before. Hank can’t help but enjoy that pretty look on 900’s face. Hank’s always been attracted to people with a praise kink, hasn’t he? Connor takes this pause as an opportunity, shifts to his knees to reach for 900. With his hands on the android’s chest, Connor asks, “Can we undress you?”

Deviancy is. Annoying. If 900 had better control of themselves, they would pause the want to nod vigorously. Maybe say “yes” instead. Maybe not have their eyes so wide. But, then again, deviancy allowed them to feel the couple’s hands, soft and searching and safe. They feel a sense of belonging, although not a tactile response, when Hank their hand and leads them to the center of the bed. They feel when Connor’s fingers run through their hair. And when 900 settles, head propped on a pillow, they feel Hank’s fingers play with the hem of their underwear.

“I’m thinkin’ me bottom, you top?”

Connor’s eyebrows arch at that, a bit nonplused if anything, but he gets Hank’s meaning quick enough and nods.

The pair, once framing 900’s middle, spilts off. 

Connor sets pillows aside and places himself near 900’s head. He loves watching Hank suck cock. Before the pair used dildos – double sided, strap on, vibrators, etc. – to tease and suck and fuck themselves or each other, depending. But now? Well! Connor would kick himself for wasting an opportunity to watch such a gorgeous sight. In the meantime, however, Connor didn’t just sit there. Oh no. He wanted 900 to feel wonderful. Whatever Connor could offer, he’d provide it for them. His fingertips glide along their chest, slow and sensual. 900’s body arching into the touch. Their pale eyes finding his, so open and honest. Connor wants to kiss them all over, but he turns to see what Hank is up to as he lightly strokes the androids synthskin.

Hank’s letting his hands roam. Their stomach, thighs, calves, twitch as Hank’s fingers pass over each spot. Hank watches, enraptured, as their cock twitches, wet forming at the head. Connor’s eyes are on him and Hank knows exactly what his husband wants to see. With both hands on their upper thighs, Hank lowers his face to 900’s underwear covered cock. His nose and lips and tongue pressing and rubbing, smelling and tasting. The noises they make, oh Hank would bite that mouth if his own weren’t so busy.

Connor slides down next to 900, still able to watch Hank if he wants but, at this moment, he wants to watch 900 throw their head back, fingers flexing into the sheets and opening, their teeth worrying their lower lip. Connor decides not to want but to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

They nod vigorously, yet again unable to stop themselves, as their eyes find Connor’s. 

It’s so endearing. So cute. Their little moans still threaten to leave, but Connor stifles the noises. His hands now pinching their nipples as he licks into their mouth, nibbling on their lip.

Hank watches Connor kiss 900 as he pulls their wet underwear down. And, fuck, their dick is gorgeous. Their uncircumcised cock, dripping a pearly blue liquid onto their stomach, is so flushed and pink and mouth-watering. Hank wants them in his mouth immediately but, instead, he takes them in hand. Stokes up, gathers and glides the precum across the head, and slides down slowly.

“Ahhh!” 900 moans, body taut like a bowstring. Connor’s mouth no longer on his lips but now sucking and biting and licking at his neck. His left hand is under 900’s head, cradling them, while the other runs a thumb over their pulse point. “Oh, please!”

“I think he wants your mouth, dearest.” Connor speaks into 900’s neck, knowing Hank will hear. 

“Is that what you want, sweet thing?” Hank’s still dragging his hand sensually up and down their member.

900 attempts to move their head to see Hank better, his lips are curled in a mischievous smile, ocean blue eyes sparkling as he watches his husband play with 900. Connor bites down on their neck and they fall back onto the pillows, body moving, unsure which way to turn. All they want is more. “Yes, Hank!” They finally manage, eyes shut tight, mouth hanging open. Connor chuckles as a hand roams down their chest again, pinching a nipple. “Please please please!~”

Hank _could_ watch Connor play with 900 forever. But he didn’t want to deny 900 something that he knew he was _very_ good at. So, with no further preamble, Hank licks the dripping head, then takes them into his mouth. His tongue runs along the underside, thick and heavy and weighted in his mouth. 900 writhes. Their body attempting to chase every pleasure these men offer, their back off the bed as they thrust into Hank’s mouth. Hank gives head with the best of them, knows how to help his partner feel amazing but still wanting more. And then, his favorite, only when they reach the edge does Hank help them over. It’s fast coming, at this rate, but Hank doesn’t mind at all. He wants nothing more than to feel their cum down his throat.

Connor’s lips find 900’s ear to whisper, “He’s wonderful, isn’t he?”

It might be rhetorical, but 900 nods anyway. They might say something in the affirmative, their mouth open and wanting to answer. But then, miraculous then, Connor nibbles on their ear and stars form. Blinking and warming and holding them tight. Their body a bow string struck, let go, and they fall over the edge into Hank’s mouth.

900’s cock pulses in Hank’s mouth. He wasn’t prepared for them to cum, but he happily takes them down. Their spend doesn’t have much flavor either, a viscous water if anything. But, fuck, if their cum sliding down his throat didn’t make him moan, make him wet. Well, he was already swimming in his briefs. Not that he minded. 

The men sit back, petting 900 through their aftershocks. Saying such nice, pretty words. How they felt wonderful, how responsive and gorgeous they are, that they should relax, breathe deep, it’ll be okay.

900’s mind floods back in spurts. Their mental faculties available but, oh, they didn’t care about that! All they want is for the couple to use them. To fuck them. To ride them. Bring themselves off using only their body.

When 900’s eyes flutter open, they’re surprised to find that the pair look scandalized. The pair are smiling, though, eyes wide as they trade glances.

“Think that dirty talk protocol works like a charm, eh Con?”

Connor’s hand finds 900’s hair again, his eyes roam their face, “Is that what you want?”

900 wasn’t aware they said anything aloud but they catch up, “My refractory period allows me to be utilized as often as needed.”

“Yes, I understand.” Connor’s voice is calm, level, but his eyes are concerned, “But is that what you _really_ want?”

900’s brows furrow at the question. “Of course I do.” Did they leave any room for doubt? “I’ve never desired anything as much as this.”

Connor can’t help but laugh at the android’s glibness, he enjoys that snarky mouth.

“Why don’t we…” Hank pauses so Connor will meet his eyes. When they do, they have another unspoken conversation. Connor turns away, somehow blushing after everything. He knows it’s silly but… this is a strange new step to take in front of their new companion. Not that he’s against the idea at all. “Me and Connor will get started, undress and all that, while you relax.”

Connor removes his shirt, throws it carelessly behind him, willing his blush away, as he says, “Let us know when you want to, um, help out.”

900 sits up, nods. Their body is still pliable, hot, and catching up to their surroundings. Yes, it’s best to let the husbands couple while 900 collects themselves. 

Hank stands, leaving the bed, while Connor further undresses himself. 900 knows immediately when Connor removes his undergarments because they can smell his natural slick. Their mouth waters and, oh, maybe 900 won’t be able to calm down. Hank, still dressed for the most part, pulls Connor to the edge of the bed, all the better to lean over and kiss him.

“Repeat performance?” Connor asks when they part to breathe.

“I’m thinkin’ so,” Hank answers, his knees meeting the floor, “Only this time you’re the star of the show, baby.”

Hank separates Connor knees with his large hands, giving a knee a kiss as he leans closer to Connor’s sex. He parts the lips with his thumbs, slick falling easily from Connor’s hole. Fluttering and wanting and so heated. Tempting Hank like a venus flytrap to an unsuspecting insect. Hank knows, as soon as his lips go anywhere near Connor glistening pussy, that Connor will use every bit of himself to draw Hank in. Knees on Hank’s shoulders or thighs framing Hank’s face or opening himself up with his own fingers, his chocolate eyes tempting Hank to fuck Connor with his tongue. 

When Hank finally makes landfall, it brings glorious sounds. Not only from Hank but from Connor as well. He’s already humping Hank’s face, so keyed up from their previous precedings, as Hank licks at Connor’s dick, his fingers deep and crooked inside, rubbing at that fleshy spot. Hank knows full well that Connor could cum right now and continue on as if he hadn’t. Hank, back in the day, used to achieve such a feat. But that was definitely in the past. He needed to save himself for whatever 900 decides to do.

900\. Well. They weren’t really relaxing. The longer they watched the more they wanted, the more they needed to help. 900 wants so badly to be used. They want to feel the men achieve orgasm just as the pair helped them. 900 wants nothing more than to make Connor and Hank feel as incredible as they made them feel. 

Connor’s arm reaches behind him, searching for whatever 900’s he can find. When their fingers interlace with his, 900 can’t stand it any longer. “I’m ready.”

Hank didn’t stop his movements, only Connor seemed to react, his head thrown backwards to look 900 in the eyes. “How – ooh god – how. Do you… Want us!”

The fact is they have a plan, a desire, a deep craving want. The difficultly, now, is that 900 isn’t sure how to move their mouth. How to voice words. They wish they could interface with the men, say exactly what they want and how they want it.

Hank stops, his face nearly dripping with slick. Connor’s shoulders jolt as he groans. He’s surfacing for air and annoyed he had to do so. He’d be snarky but he can see the apprehension on 900’s face. “You can tell us, even if you want to stop.” Hank’s voice is sultry now, breath ghosting against Connor’s worn entrance.

“No.” 900 says quickly, “I’m just… unsure of how to express it.”

Connor tries his damnedest to steel himself. Having another in the bedroom means he needs to pay attention to them, even if his horny brain wants him to shove his pussy into Hank’s face. It’s slow going, though. “Try your best, love. You’re doing so well.”

900 sputters at that. Their mouth open, eyes blinking as their cheeks brighten with blue.

“Oh Hank,” Connor slides away from the side of the bed, closer to 900, “I think they like praise.”

Hank, for a moment, wants to make fun of Connor. Tell him “we been knew” or something. But the fact is Hank can understand why he might be a bit slow on the uptake. “Yes, take your time. Alright, sweetheart?”

“It’s just… I’m not sure how to handle all these feelings.” 900’s eyes watch the men with wide eyes, hoping for a clue on how to get from here to the pair fucking them. “I _do_ know what I want.” They’re… just unsure how to say it. Everything is overwhelming right now. It’s not a negative feeling, though 900 can understand how this could lead there, but all these positive feelings and emotions are stacked so high. How in the world does one navigate that?

“You’re so good for us, aren’t you?” Hank joins the bed, crawling towards 900 on hands and knees. His mouth shines with Connor’s slick. 900 wants to kiss him. Taste Hank, taste Connor, and store that information for the rest of their days. Hank takes 900’s hand, again, and leads them so they’re on their back once more, “You can tell us. Isn’t that right, Connor?”

“Yes, baby.” Connor moves, straddling 900’s legs. 900 feels Connor dripping onto them. Oh, ra9, Connor is so very close to where 900 wants him. “You’re doing so good.”

“I…” 900 starts. They don’t even know how to begin the thought. Fuck, if only they could interface. 

It finally dawns on Hank, damned horny brain, that 900 is overwhelmed. Time to compartmentalize. Ask specifics. “Where would you like me?”

“On my face.”

Hank blinks fast, blush forming on his cheeks. “Oh,” he tries to hide it with a joking voice but, he’s immediately nervous at this request, “Is that all?”

“Facing Connor.” 900 adds quickly, unable to stop the words, “I want Connor to use my penile component.”

“Oh,” Connor presses his wetness against 900’s legs, “you really _do_ want to be used.”

“I’d love nothing more.” That word feels strange as it exits their mouth. Androids weren’t supposed to want, let alone love, anything. It feels so right, though. That word.

It’s Hank’s turn to undress now. He’s shaking his head as he does so, “With you too wringing out my dick… I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last.” 

Connor feels the same. He’ll only wants to slide on to 900 when Hank is on 900’s face. He can feel himself pulsing, dripping with desire as he humps 900’s leg like a terribly trained dog. Uncaring of how wanton he’s behaving.

“You know,” Hank drops his pants, belt, and briefs over the bed, face the picture of apprehension, “I don’t want to break you or anything, kid.”

“You won’t!” 900’s answer is earnest. “Not only is mine the most durable model, but I don’t need to breathe.”

Hank’s own breath catches in his throat as Connor makes a little noise, groaning again as he all but drags himself away from 900’s legs. “I think we can trust him, Hank.”

It’s worrisome, for sure. Hank’s heart beating fast, afraid of an outcome where his fat ass breaks 900’s neck.

“If it makes you feel better, Hank, I can lift anything in this hotel with ease. If something happens, lifting you will be no problem.”

It doesn’t make him feel better, not really, but he’ll be careful. He won’t put his whole weight on the guy, not like Connor can on Hank’s face. Hank nods, steadying himself as he settles over 900’s head, inches above them. It’s strange… Hank can’t feel breath, but he can feel heat radiating off 900.

This whole time Hank’s been hiding himself. He’s been showing signs of self-hatred. Even now when both the man’s husband and a hotel android are throwing themselves at him. If 900 was a better model, one that was better at human interactions, 900 would express this to Hank. The man smelled so wonderful. He was such a thick, beautiful, strong man. 900 wants Hank’s weight on their face so badly. They want Hank grinding down and dripping on their lips and chin. But, 900 doesn’t have words, instead 900 uses their hands and arms to pull Hank’s full weight on them. Hank’s protesting, no doubt worried, but then 900 licks inside. Using their fingers to find Hank’s dick and rubbing in slow circles. Hank melts. And, just as 900 wanted, Hank moves against 900’s face. 

Connor can’t possibly wait any longer. He slots himself over 900’s dripping member and, “oh fuck,” they feel so good inside him. The perfect length, not too long; the perfect girth, just enough of a stretch to feel amazing; so incredibly warm and _pulsing_ inside Connor. “Ooooh, god.” It’s incredible, yes, but the visuals might put Connor over the edge.

Connor can just make out 900’s tongue moving deep inside Hank’s hole, their fingers rutting against Hank’s sizable dick. Hank’s eyes are threatening to roll backwards into his head. God, he’s gorgeous like this. Leaning backwards, thrusting up to catch 900’s tongue, mouth open and panting.

“Hank,” Connor pleads. The pair are facing each other, just like 900 wanted, and Connor realizes now that it’s for their benefit more than 900’s.

Their hands meet, fingers interlacing, as they ride both ends of 900.

Connor’s eyes are wet, his mouth is pink, his hair is mussed, and Hank loves seeing Connor like this – so beautiful. Hank’s pleasure is, god, Connor doesn’t remember the last time Hank looked this fucked out – usually Hank liked being the top, being in charge. But sometimes Connor forgets how much he loves watching Hank come undone.

“I… I don’t think…” Hank’s trying to talk, but in the end it’s fruitless. 900 takes this moment to turn on a function they had only used before their deviancy, vibration. Their cock and tongue and fingers vibrate against Hank’s hole and his dick and inside of Connor’s pussy.

Words fail. Thoughts fail. For a brief moment there’s only feeling, an endless cycle of pleasure, against their heated skin and sex. The three are flung over that edge, flying off and into bliss.

When Connor eyes focus, he unseats himself from 900’s cock. Their collective cum dripping from his hole. God, Connor hadn’t felt this in so long. He forgot how much he loved cum inside of him. Hot and sticky and satisfied in the best ways. He settles in next to 900, intertwining their legs together.

When Hank’s breathing slows to dulled moans, he lifts a leg – somehow, he’s so incredibly unbalanced that he’s surprised he did knee 900 in the face – and falls to 900’s side. The opposite side Connor’s on.

The three try and relax, catch their breath, as the couple take turns kissing 900’s cheeks, their lips, their forehead. 900 has never been treated like this before. They never… felt anything afterwards before. If only this didn’t have to end. But a problem they’d been neglecting was threatening to knock on the door and take them away to deactivation. The hotel was busy when 900 deviated, but things were slowing down. Eventually the staff would notice the footage cut off. Which could mean only two things: their body was destroyed or they had deviated.

Their body filled with ice as it pondered their life. What did it all mean if they were to die right now?

They had only one option, then.

Hank and Connor could never have imagined anything like this happening on their anniversary. Not by a longshot. 900 changed their lives the moment they stepped foot into their bedroom. But, it’s safe to say, that no party would come to regret this. Not one bit.

The pair happily cut their anniversary short, found an old pal of Hank’s – a retired detective turned pilot – to fly them home, and inviting 900 into their home. Neither Hank nor Connor were shocked to find out exactly the androids were for in the Watson. No, not just androids, but surveillance units that sold the collected info to the highest bidder. Figures, both men thought as 900 explained.

With the catalyst being 900 versus Watson, public opinion was turning towards android rights. This would take some time, of course, but 900 had somewhere they belonged now. They weren’t a piece of equipment any longer – they are a person. 

Sometimes they joked that they were the couples “anniversary gift.” And, okay, yeah, that was really cute of them. Neither Hank nor Connor could barely stand it, holding 900 close as they kissed whatever part of 900 they could reach.

**Author's Note:**

> i came up with this idea watching a porno. a maid walked in while the honeymooning couple were going at it and, after the dust settles a bit, the maid says "think of me as an amenity" and i was like "damn, i can hank1700 the shit outta this"
> 
> comments are much appreciated~
> 
> you can follow me on my twitter [goldenganjj](https://twitter.com/goldenganjj) for fic updates and fandom nonsense


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